


Ἵμερος

by AndaisQ



Category: Percy Jackson and the Olympians - Rick Riordan
Genre: Age Play, Anal Sex, Ancient Greek Slurs, Bed-Wetting, Bestiality, Bondage, Crying, Dead Dove: Do Not Eat, Deepthroating, Hurt/Comfort, Kissing, M/M, Panic Attacks, Pederasty, Prepubescent Main Character, Public Humiliation, Public Nudity, Public Use, Size Kink, Watersports, human urinal
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-08-20
Updated: 2020-08-20
Packaged: 2021-03-06 22:33:31
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,888
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26016559
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AndaisQ/pseuds/AndaisQ
Summary: AU. Percy Jackson has a very fucked-up dream on his first night at camp. A lot of things go sideways from there.Not all tags will apply to all chapters; warnings will be placed at the beginning of each chapter. Underage warning applies to all chapters. If underage content is a problem for you, I recommend a different fic.
Relationships: Connor Stoll/Travis Stoll, Luke Castellan/Percy Jackson, Percy Jackson/Connor Stoll/Travis Stoll, Percy Jackson/Various Creatures
Comments: 4
Kudos: 93





	Ἵμερος

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter contains watersports, fraternal incest, debatable bestiality (a satyr and a centaur), slurs (none in English), and depictions of panic attacks.

I couldn't remember how I got here. It was cold. I was naked, kneeling on a hard stone floor. My knees ached, and my calves were full of pins and needles, indicating I'd probably been here for a while. There was a metal drain under me. My wrists were chained to some kind of ring in the floor, along with my ankles. There was something _in my butt_ , which was a _weird_ feeling.

I'd never been kidnapped before. I didn't much like it.

The door opened, and a satyr walked in wearing the standard-issue satyr outfit: a bright orange Camp Half-Blood tee and nothing else. I tried to keep my eyes off his dick and failed, as I always did around satyrs. It was long, and thick, and hard. Satyrs had a permanent boner, I'd discovered; it was just how they worked. And this one was right at eye level, bobbing up and down as he approached.

"Hey!" I yelled. My voice cracked in the middle of the word, and I cringed. "Where am I? I- my dad is a god, apparently, so if you mess with me, he'll-"

He yawned, scratched his butt, and started peeing in my open mouth.

I had tasted my own pee before – I think most kids get curious at some point, right? It had been clearish, kind of salty, with an undercurrent of _weird_ , like the couple of times I'd tasted beer. Frankly, it'd tasted a little better than the beer had, but not enough that I wanted to drink it again.

This was nothing like that. It was _strong._ Bitter as hell, and sour. It tasted like how I thought battery acid might taste. The _weird_ wasn't an undercurrent, it was like a punch in the face. I choked and sputtered, then realized I should close my mouth and did that. He moved the stream up my face, stinging my eyes, which I immediately squinched tightly shut. I felt him soaking my hair, hot trickles running down my face and my neck. I breathed through my nose, even though the smell was suffocating – the smell of urine, sure, but also the musk-and-lanolin smell of _satyr_.

And yet… something about it felt… I don't know. _Right_. I shoved that thought to the back of my mind, so I could set it on fire later.

The stream died down to a trickle, but he leaned forward to get the last drops on me. I opened my eyes once they weren't in danger anymore, glaring at him. "What the _heck_ was that? You can't just – pee on somebody!"

He laughed, like I'd said something really hilarious, then his face went thoughtful as he stroked himself a couple of times. "You know what, I've got time," he said. And as I opened my mouth to ask what he was talking about, he shoved his dick down my throat.

I choked some more. Tears welled up in my eyes as my throat muscles clenched and spasmed, trying to force out the intruder. I tried desperately not to throw up, and against all odds I succeeded, but I was drooling like crazy, spit dribbling down my chin onto my chest. I felt my teeth scraping against skin a couple of times, but he didn't seem to care. He was humping my face, his wiry pubic fur tickling my nose, bleating and moaning like he didn't care who heard him. He probably didn't.

There was a knock at the door. "Other people have to go too, dickhead!" somebody yelled from outside. The satyr snorted and rammed his hips into my face, burying his cock halfway down my esophagus, and with a twitch, he started shooting cum down my throat.

I knew what cum was. I'd never made any myself – doctors called me a "late bloomer" like I didn't know the word "runt" – but other boys talked about it, at Yancy and at the schools before Yancy. I knew it was white, and it smelled kind of like bleach, and from the sound of it, it was kind of gross. That knowledge didn't prepare me for the feeling of slime coating the back of my throat, coughing it into my sinuses and dribbling it out of my nose, him pulling out and shooting it onto my tongue and into my face. Honestly, it didn't taste that bad – kinda bitter, kinda bland, but not as bad as his pee. But the _texture_ was disgusting.

He squeezed his dick from the base to the tip to get out a little bubble of extra cum, rubbed it in my hair, and walked out as I coughed helplessly.

I caught one word as he walked away: " _Kinaidos_."

I was still on my first week of Ancient Greek lessons, so I couldn't be sure, but I didn't think I was going to get this word on a vocab quiz with Chiron. I'd been called a lot of names in my time, and not all of them had been in English; this one sounded like when Santiago Perez back at Yancy had called me _maricón_. Some words kind of rhyme between languages, and _kinaidos_ rhymed with a two-syllable word that started with "F".

I'd always had kind of a complicated relationship with that word. It brings back a lot of memories, none of them good: my stepdad talking about me when he thought I couldn't hear him, bad jokes from so-called friends, and plenty of jabs from not-at-all-friends. It feels like somebody digging their fingers into my guts and moving them around.

But... on the flip side of that...

Listen, I jerk off. I'm a boy, and even if I haven't gone through puberty just _yet_ , it feels nice. And it feels nicer when I'm thinking about somebody calling me names. Sometimes, feeling like somebody's got his fingers in my guts is what I want.

That's all I'm gonna say on the subject for now.

While I recovered from the unexpected vocabulary lesson and the throat-rape, somebody else walked in. Two somebodies, actually. The Stoll brothers, practically identical apart from one of them being a couple of inches taller, looked at me and grinned.

"Okay, the satyr was one thing," I rasped. "But you guys are supposed to be cool."

"Pretty mouthy for a urinal, isn't he?" Connor (or maybe Travis?) asked.

Travis (or maybe Connor) nodded. "Somebody ought to remind him what he's here for."

They unzipped in unison, pulling out their pricks. Then they aimed for my mouth and started peeing.

Maybe I should try to sound more grown-up about it. They started _pissing_ in my mouth. It wasn't like the bitter, acrid piss from the satyr; it was clearer, cleaner. It still wasn't exactly ambrosia, but it was mostly just warm and kind of salty, and it soothed my sore throat as I swallowed it down. Then I realized I was _drinking piss_ , and I closed my mouth, cheeks burning, too late to save my dignity.

"Aw, he likes it!" the older one chirped.

"Mikey likes it," the younger one agreed. "Hey Perce, you want some more? We can leave you a to-go cup."

I grit my teeth as they laughed. One of them aimed his stream down at my dick, the other played his over my chest. The warmth felt nice in the cold air, even if it was humiliating. Then their bladders emptied, the streams dying down to a trickle, and the air against my wet skin was colder than ever. My nipples pebbled up, and my dick, which had been stiffening against my will under the attention, started to shrivel.

The older Stoll made a sad trombone noise. I growled at him.

"He's like an angry little puppy!" he said happily. "Connor, can we keep him?"

Connor (apparently) shook his head. "You know we're too irresponsible for pets. We can fuck him, though."

" _Can_ we!" Travis grinned. The brothers stripped efficiently. They were fit, if not stacked; more of a swimmer's build than anything. As their dicks hardened, it looked like Travis' height advantage was reflected down there too.

Connor went around my back and ran his hand down my spine, making me shiver. His fingers found the base of the dildo-or-whatever in my butt, and he pulled it out slowly. My butthole widened around a flared-out bit, then narrowed again as it came out the rest of the way with a slick noise. I felt the cold air invading my butt, and I tried to clench, but the muscles wouldn't do it.

Connor spread my cheeks, lined his dick up with my hole and pushed in slowly. I was slick with something, and he slipped in without any trouble. He wasn't as thick as the plug had been, but my butt apparently liked having something to close around anyway.

Having him moving in me felt _good._ I felt myself getting hard again, and I opened my mouth to moan.

Travis shoved his dick in my mouth the second I did. I was getting kind of tired of that.

I rocked back and forth between the brothers, Connor pounding my butt and Travis pounding my throat. It wasn't as bad as it had been with the satyr; even if Travis was bigger than his brother, he wasn't big enough to make sweet love to my larynx. Still, they didn't really concern themselves with my comfort. That is, until Connor angled himself a little differently and pushed up against a spot inside me that felt like the nectar and ambrosia I'd had when I first came to camp, put in a blender and poured into my veins.

I could feel him laughing, his chest flush against my back. "You love this, don't you, _kinaidos_? Having somebody push your little button."

I couldn't really answer him, seeing as my mouth was full. Not that I could've answered _coherently_ even if I'd had cue cards and a microphone. His dick pressing into that spot, calling me _kinaidos_ –

his thumb and forefinger on my dick, stroking once, twice, and I was shaking like a leaf, I felt my balls rise up and something dribbled out and I made an absolutely unholy noise around Travis' dick in my mouth. They came at the same time, probably because I was clenching every muscle in my body.

"Ew," Connor laughed. " _Sperma kinaidou._ " He wiped his hand in my hair. (I was getting pretty tired of people doing _that_ , too.) Then they both pulled out. I felt Connor's cum leaking out of my ass, and Travis's sliding down my throat.

They picked up their clothes and got dressed. Connor looked pretty much like he always did, but Travis had a goofy smile on his face, and he was sneaking glances at me when he thought Connor wasn't looking. I wondered what was going on with him. Connor sighed after the third time.

"Travis, was there something you wanted?"

Travis shifted from foot to foot. "Maaaaaaybe," he sing-songed.

"Well, you've already gone to the bathroom," Connor said, pretending to think about it. "Do you want... a puppy?"

"No," Travis giggled.

"Do you want a cookie?" Connor asked.

"Noooo," Travis said more reluctantly.

Connor smirked. "Do you want... something _embarrassing?_ "

Travis blushed and nodded.

"Do you want to kiss Percy?" Connor asked.

Privately, I thought that no matter how apparently brain-damaged Travis's orgasm had left him, that seemed a lot less likely than the puppy suggestion.

"Yeah," Travis said, bouncing on his heels. "Wanna kiss Percy."

_What?_

Connor grinned. "You're so cute when you're little," he said. "Go ahead and kiss him, then. But you'd better brush your teeth afterwards – you don't know where he's been."

"Hey!" I said, on reflex. I was still kind of staggered that Travis wanted to _kiss_ me.

He got down on his knees like I was, and he leaned forward, still beaming like a little kid, and he kissed me.

I hadn't kissed anybody before. Travis's lips were soft, and he didn't seem to mind if I tasted like piss. I couldn't help myself; I kissed him back.

The cold piss on my body didn't bother me in that moment. The cum drying on my face didn't matter. The only thing that still annoyed me was that my hands were chained to the ground, so I couldn't _touch_ him except with my lips – but that was kind of nice too, in a way.

Connor cleared his throat after a couple of minutes. "Time to go, Trav."

I felt him pouting against my lips. "Don't wanna."

"Sounds like somebody needs a nap," I commented.

Connor snickered. "The kid gets it. Come on, champ, we gotta go."

Travis let Connor cajole him out of the bathroom, leaning his head on Connor's shoulder like a sleepy toddler. They went out, and somebody else came in. He looked like a son of Ares. He pissed on me and left without taking any more liberties. He was followed by one of the Dionysians. A couple of Apollo boys took their turn. Apparently the sons of Aphrodite went to the bathroom in flocks, and they had a neat little circle jerk onto my face after hosing me down from all directions. I lost count of the sons of Hermes. It stopped being awful and started being _boring._

And then the centaur walked in.

I tried to scramble back, forgetting I was chained down. "Oh, _heck_ no," I said. "You can turn right around and pee outside, buddy. We're closed for business."

He belly-laughed and trotted forward, not stopping until his sheath was right in front of my face. I breathed in the intense smell of sweat and animal hair. "Where would be the fun in that?" he asked, as he let loose.

You've probably heard the expression ‘piss like a racehorse', right? It's an understatement. Your average horse - or centaur - has a bladder like the Pacific. And he can let loose like a firehose. The force of the stream stung my skin. It was as wide as a #2 pencil, splashing hot against my face and spraying everywhere like a faucet with a spoon under it. I had closed my mouth before he started, my reflexes finely honed after hours of this treatment, so I couldn't tell you how it tasted, but it smelled strong. And it went on _forever_. It took a full minute for his bladder to empty, and as it did, he sent a few last spurts up my nose. I coughed miserably.

"Whoops," he said. I had a feeling he didn't mean it.

Then something happened that scared the living Hades out of me.

His dick started coming out of its sheath.

First it was just a flash of pink and brown flesh at the opening. Then it extended a few more inches, and he started flexing his stomach to make it _thwack_ against his belly. Every second it grew more. Eventually, it was fully unfurled - a monster of a thing, longer and thicker than my arm from shoulder to fist.

My breathing sped up. My muscles twitched. It took me a while to remember how to speak. "That…"

"Does it scare you?" he asked quietly.

I nodded, then realized he couldn't see it through his own body. "Y-yeah."

"It should. You're going to suck it. Then it's going up your ass."

I wanted to puke. "It- it'd kill me."

"Not quite," he said, amused. "You demigods are… flexible. Resilient. You'll find room for it."

I swallowed. "I don't even know how we'd…" I rattled my chains. "I mean, the _positioning_."

With a snort, his hoof lashed out and smashed the ring I was chained to into half a dozen pieces of iron.

I almost passed out. Like, I felt the blood rushing out of my face, my vision went brown, and everything.

"I suggest you start sucking," the centaur said mildly.

I leaned forward, shaking like crazy. I opened my mouth as wide as it would go and just barely managed to wrap my lips around the domed head of his dick, past the ridge, where it narrowed to only as thick as my wrist. The only thought in my head at that moment was: _maybe if I can get him off quick enough he won't be able to fuck me_. All the skills I'd built up over the past few hours went towards that goal. Not that I'd actually built up any skills over the past few hours - most of my patrons had just sort of shoved themselves in and out, and I hadn't really had a chance to show off. But I knew how to use the Internet, and I'd read about blowjobs. I swirled my tongue around, I was pretty sure that was a thing. I sucked, and licked, and tried to deep-throat him, like they did in the stories.

It turns out deep-throating a horse isn't actually a great idea. He waited patiently while I dry-heaved on the floor.

When I was done, he said, "Now, stand up and bend over."

There were already tears in my eyes from my great idea a few minutes ago, but I felt them spilling over my cheeks now. _Now would be a great time for my legs to stop working_ , I thought.

They didn't. They shook, and they ached from having been in the same position for so long, but I stood up and bent over like he asked.

"Take my cock in your hand, _kinaidos_. Guide it in."

It did occur to me that I could _not_ do what he asked me to do. Then I thought about how his hoof had shattered iron, and did a little mental math about how strong my bones were, and I reconsidered.

I gripped it in my hand. It was slimy from my throat, at least the first few inches of it. Tears still streaming down my face, I pressed the tip against my hole, still loose from Connor and the handful of other guys who had pounded me since.

The dome head was too broad to penetrate, at first, and I hoped wildly that it just wouldn't. Maybe it was just too big, and fitting it in was as impossible as putting a bowling ball through a glazed donut. That hope lasted about five seconds. Slowly, my butt started to stretch wider and wider as it was forced apart by that battering ram.

It hurt. Of course it hurt. But I guess that centaur knew what he was talking about, because long past when I should've started bleeding, or passed out, or split open like a watermelon under a jackhammer, he just kept pushing in more and more, and it kept going in. It was like a magician's handkerchief in reverse. His dick pressed up against that same spot inside me that Connor had, making me gasp-hiccup through my tears, then kept going, rubbing and pressing against it as he invaded me deeper. Through the pain, I felt my dick stiffening up again. Then, I felt him pushing against my bladder, which was already uncomfortably full.

I didn't have the strength to control it. Piss streamed from my dick onto the floor. The centaur laughed and _shoved_ the next few inches in, making my boner jump and spray my belly and chest. I felt his balls slap against my thighs, and thought hazily _how'd that happen? There's no way he's all the way in._

I looked down and saw the outline of his dick through my stomach, and as I came, I thought _I guess he's all the way in._

The centaur roared as he unloaded into my guts. It sounded like - you know how screaming horses sound like people? Apparently screaming centaurs sound like horses. It got harder and harder to think as he filled me up, and his voice blurred. It sounded less like a horse and more like dozens of people talking at once, some of them laughing, some of them saying my name. I shook, and groaned, and eventually I opened my eyes to see Luke, crouching down and shaking me by the shoulders and looking really worried.

"-up, Percy, _wake up_." He'd been talking for a while.

I flinched away. "Where- where is he?" My voice was raspy, like I'd been screaming.

"Who?" he asked. He was barefoot, wearing nothing but a pair of sweatpants, and it seemed like everybody in the Hermes cabin was standing around my sleeping bag. Which was soaking wet, naturally.

"The- the centaur, he was…" I shook my head vigorously. "That was _not_ a dream. You're about to tell me it was a dream. It _wasn't._ "

Luke put his hand to my forehead. "It being a dream is looking pretty likely from where I'm standing," he noted. "You're not feverish… how are you feeling?"

"How do you think I feel?" I asked miserably. "I just apparently had a nightmare and wet the bed on my first day at summer camp."

Somebody giggled. Luke glared at them. "Shut the fuck up, Schmidt," he said seriously. "Percy, come on, let's get your stuff washed. Connor, Travis, I'm leaving you in charge of the cabin. Please beat the living hell out of anybody who feels like being a comedian."

The Stolls saluted. Luke pulled me out of my sleeping bag casually (he was _strong_ ) and bundled it up into his arms, then pulled me to my feet and led me out of the cabin. Somebody wolf-whistled, at which point Travis punched him in the face. Nobody else felt like being a comedian.

I walked next to him, feeling the night air chilling my soaking-wet boxers. I felt lower than low. "Sorry about… all this," I mumbled.

He turned and gave me a look. "You're trying to apologize to me for having a nightmare so bad it made you piss yourself."

"I mean... I kind of made it your problem. Woke you up, and stuff."

"In what universe-" He shook his head. " _I_ made it my problem. _You_ have a complex."

"I don't have a complex! I'm trying to apologize for-" I tried to find words that didn't make it sound like he was right. It didn't seem to be working. "For messing up the floor?" I tried.

"You have a complex," he repeated. "It's fine, we're all fucked up somehow. We're demigods. It's kind of a thing."

"Hamartia," I said. "Right?"

"Right. It's a bitch and a half."

I bit my lip. "While we're talking, um, vocab… what does _kinaidos_ mean? I got the gist, but..."

"Did Clarisse call you that?" he asked sharply.

"No, um. Somebody in the dream. Everybody in the dream, actually."

He was quiet for a minute. "Means you like taking it up the ass, basically. Not a nice thing to call somebody, around here. Greek norms, and all."

"I thought the ancient Greeks all loved buttsex," I said.

"They all loved _topping_. If you got off on bottoming, you were a _pervert_." He made a kind of jazz-hands-y gesture. "Same if you liked grown men instead of little boys."

"What?"

"Pederasty," he explained. "The older man was the _erastes_. The boy - usually a young teenager - was the _eromenos_. It was the _erastes_ ' job to protect and educate the _eromenos_ , and it was the _eromenos'_ job to please the _erastes_ and follow his commands. In bed, specifically."

I thought about that. Honestly it sounded kind of nice, having somebody to protect you and teach you what you needed to know. While also having lots of sex.

"But when the _eromenos_ grew up, he was out on his ass," he spat. "Because nobody wanted a man in his bed, just a pretty little boy to play with. The _erastes_ moved on to his next conquest, and the _eromenos_ was left to pick up the pieces."

I wondered how someone could have this much of a personal grudge against a social construct from Ancient Greece. It didn't seem like a great time to ask.

We reached the river. Luke started washing my sleeping bag in the water, and after a few seconds, looked over at me. "Aren't you going to wash up?" he asked.

I blinked. "Um… in the river?"

"Yeah. Before your clothes dry and end up smelling like piss forever."

It made sense. I dipped a toe in. The water didn't feel that cold; more refreshing than anything. I started to step in, but Luke pulled me back.

"What are you doing? Just take your clothes off and wash them."

I made a very manly squeaking sound. "I- I can't do that!"

Luke rolled his eyes. "I _promise_ you it's nothing I haven't seen before. Do you want me to take off my pants first so you're not the only one naked?"

"Yes," I said without thinking. Then I panicked. "Wait, I mean, I don't want to-"

He was already stripping off his grey sweatpants, revealing a butt like Michelangelo's David and a dick that belonged on a satyr. It was soft, but it hung down twice as long as my current aching boner.

I blushed furiously and stammered something. Even I had no idea what I was trying to say.

He sighed, and in a blur of motion, he pulled my boxers down around my ankles. While I stood there, frozen, he pulled my T-shirt over my head.

"There. Now, can we do your laundry now, or do you need a minute to jerk off?"

I covered my dick belatedly, knocking my knees together. "I- I-"

He pinched the bridge of his nose. "I don't _care_ if you got a hard-on from seeing me naked, dude. I just want to wash your clothes and go back to sleep."

It was too much. My knees gave out and I fell on my butt and started crying, hating myself for it even as I did.

Luke looked exhausted. "Shit, I didn't mean-" He ground his palms into his eyes, making a frustrated noise. Then he sat down next to me, his dick flopping on the ground, and knocked his head on his knees. "I'm such a fuckup."

I swallowed a couple of times. "I'm the one who, who started crying because you took my underwear off for me. Because I _wet_ myself. If anybody's a- a screwup here it's me."

"You're twelve," he said. "You're allowed to be a fuckup. I'm supposed to be an adult. If it weren't for my fucking dad I'd be in college right now, but I'm just the camp counselor who accidentally makes middle-schoolers cry. It's not-" He clenched his jaw, then sighed. "I'm sorry. I shouldn't have rushed you. I forget sometimes how much kids from outside… _care_ about nudity. One of the nice things about those fucked-up Greek norms is that most of us don't give a shit. If you aren't plowing somebody on the dinner table, it isn't a thing. And if you are, well, dinner and a show."

I snickered a little, between hiccups. "Sounds like fun. S-sorry I'm-"

"You're having a complex again," he diagnosed.

When I stuck my tongue out at him, he poked it. I licked his finger in retaliation. It tasted like nothing, but I could feel his calluses, which was cool. I found myself swirling my tongue like I had in my dream.

Luke was staring at me. In the moonlight, I could just barely see the color in his cheeks. I could also see his dick getting hard.

"What are you doing," he said. It was more of a statement than a question.

"Um," I said. After some thought, I continued, "I was… licking you defiantly."

"That is _not_ what you were doing," Luke said flatly.

"It did turn out less defiant than I might have hoped," I agreed. "Um. Sorry?"

He twitched. Then he grabbed the back of my head and dragged me into a kiss.

I kissed him back. I couldn't not. I felt a little bit of stubble scratching against my lips, and he pulled my lower lip into his mouth and bit it, and he started making little noises, which seemed like a good sign. Then I tasted salt, and I realized he was crying. I pulled away.

"What's wrong?" I asked.

He let go of my head and scrubbed at his eyes with the heel of his palm. "I… that was a mistake," he said shakily. "Another mistake. I'm sorry. I'm- I'm sorry, I'm sorry-"

I shifted closer and hugged him. He flinched, and I backed off, but then he reached out and pulled me back in. He buried his face in my shoulder and sobbed. I patted his back cautiously and he cried harder. It was weird, comforting this guy who had at least a foot of height on me, and seven years more life experience, and a body like a Greek statue… but it felt nice. Like I was actually doing something that mattered, for once.

I ran my fingers through his hair, and he made a noise into my shoulder. It didn't seem to be a crying noise, this time, so I kept doing it. I stroked his hair for a while, and his sobs got quieter and quieter, and eventually I realized that my camp counselor had fallen asleep in my arms.

 _Well_ , I thought, _he's had a big night._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm back from the fucking dead! Hi everybody! This fic has possessed me, I swear to God. Expect more soon.
> 
> Standard disclaimer: Don't fuck middle-schoolers. And, if by some ungodly chance a middle-schooler is reading this: Don't fuck anybody more than two years older or younger than you. Bad idea. (Also, quit reading porn and go do your pre-algebra homework.)


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